Demon was angry with himself. He'd been sloppy. All these unanticipated problems were no excuse. He had a goal to achieve, and soon. He must be more careful. He had no ID with him so Efisio didn't get his name from anything in his clothes. They knew before he got into the car, which meant they'd photographed him. Probably at the Arch, and while he was bouncing around Athens on his little metro odyssey they were showing his picture around the university until someone recognized him. Simple.
But there was an upside to Efisio's bit of theatrics: it let Demon know the son of a bitch was watching his every move. Another example of why it never paid to lose your temper. Efisio could have followed him straight to Anna, which was exactly where Demon was headed at the moment.
'Shit.' He mumbled the word aloud. 'I can't see her anymore.' He decided to go home to the apartment listed in the phone book. They probably knew about that one by now anyway. He would miss her. With Anna he never had to pay the political rhetoric price one endured to screw Exarchia hangers-on. She never even complained when she got pregnant. But, what the hell, giving her up was his price for being careless. He took it as a learning experience. Which reminded him: time to raise tuition for Zanni Kostopoulos' next lesson. 'He's in the apartment, Chief.' It was Yianni.
'Anything new?'
'Not so far. He got back about ten minutes ago. No phone calls, only rock music and bathroom sounds.'
'Enjoy. But stay on your toes. He's definitely going to do something, and I'm guessing today's big run-around has him a lot more careful. Don't let him sneak out a back door on you while you're listening to a concert.'
'Will do.'
Andreas hung up and looked at his watch. It was almost nine. My god, I haven't called Lila!
He grabbed the phone and dialed.
'Hi, it's Andreas.'
She laughed. 'I recognized the voice.'
He thought to apologize quickly, before she started in on how inconsiderate men were. 'I'm so sorry that I didn't call sooner but-'
'Darling, I understand completely.'
He wanted to say, 'You do?' but decided to keep his mouth shut.
'And I can't believe you took the time to send me those beautiful flowers.'
Here it comes, the sarcastic build up to World War III.
'And with such a lovely note.'
Andreas decided to speak, 'Lila, I know how you feel-'
'No, you don't,' she sniffled. 'You've been so nice, so understanding, and then… to remember to send me flowers… with so much on your mind.'
Andreas made a tactical decision. 'I'm glad you liked them.' And held his breath.
'I loved them.'
They spoke for twenty minutes about everything but the case. He let her know they'd talk about that in person.
The last words Lila said before hanging up were: 'Can't wait to see you. I'll call you tomorrow when I get back. And again, thank you for the flowers. I can't tell you how much they meant to me.'
He put down the phone and looked out the window. It wasn't like he was lying. He would have sent her flowers… if he'd thought about it.
But who sent them? And why? No one knew she was there but – then it hit him, Tassos knew. That bastard was teasing him. No, not Tassos; he wouldn't think of sending flowers any more than Andreas would. Besides, he'd already let on that he knew about Lila and the hotel. Sounds more like something Maggie would do. But how did she know about Lila… and Mykonos? He leaned back and shut his eyes, but only for an instant. He sat straight up and called Maggie at home.
'Hello.'
'When did you speak to Tassos?'
'Do you ever start a conversation with a simpler question, like "Good evening, Maggie. How are you?"'
'I don't have time for this.'
'It's about the flowers, isn't it?'
Andreas was fuming. 'Yes. Well, in part. What did he tell you?'
'Not as much as this conversation is.'
He could see her smile through the phone. 'Maggie!'
'Okay, he didn't call me. I called him.'
'Why?'
'What did you expect? You told me he was asking about me. That meant he wanted to talk to me.'
Andreas didn't understand the logic, but somehow he knew she was right.
'Okay, so what did you talk about?'
'Nothing about the case, I assure you.'
'Just tell me.'
'None of your business.'
He drew in and let out a breath. 'Okay, tell me the part that is my business.'
'Fine. He said he bumped into you on the plane from Mykonos and got the impression you met someone there you liked but didn't have time to see her. I asked for her name and where she was staying.'
'That's all he said?'
'Yes, that's all he said.' She snickered.
'Uhh… what about the note?'
'What about it?'
'What did it say?'
'I miss you desperately. Marry me.'
'Maggie!'
'Sorry I had to leave. Hope you understand. Kisses, Andreas.'
He paused. 'Thank you. That was very nice of you.'
'You're welcome.'
'So, when are you going to see Tassos?' He knew that was inevitable.
'He'll be in Athens tomorrow.'
'That's quick, he must be interested.'
'Let's hope, but he won't have time to see me, he's catching a plane.'
'To where?'
'Didn't say, but my guess is Italy.'
Andreas' pulse jumped. 'Why do you say Italy?'
'Because I offered to cook dinner. He said he couldn't make it for dinner, that he had to catch a plane but lunch was open. I said I had to work. He said "too bad" because it looked like he was going to be eating only pasta for a while. See what I give up for you.'
'Thanks, Maggie,' and he hung up.
Andreas picked up a pencil with his right hand and studied it. Then he talked to it. 'What are you up to, my old friend? Are you with the good guys or the bad guys? Or haven't you decided?' His thumb was in position to snap the pencil to pieces. 'Do I trust you or don't I? Should I or shouldn't I? To press or not to press, that is the question.'
Andreas compromised. He threw the pencil against the wall and went home. Demon posted a typical Facebook message on the 'wall' of an innocent account holder who had agreed to be a friend of Gertrude Louise. The account belonged to a celebrated member of Parliament with thousands of Facebook friends, most of whom the member didn't know. But politicians didn't say no to someone asking to be their friend. Of the thousands of other friends who might read his message, Demon only cared about the one with a computer instantly alerting him to any Facebook postings by Gertrude Louise.
Demon sat staring at his computer, waiting for a reply. He reread his message: I have a once in a lifetime marketing opportunity that requires printing 300,000 fliers by tomorrow. Please, only respond with the name of a printer who can do it tomorrow. It's either tomorrow or never. Thanks, Gertrude Louise.
Demon wondered when he'd hear back. If the Old Man wanted results he'd have to pay. Demon didn't mention the forty million because it wasn't relevant, and the whole mess of them wouldn't pay that much for their cause anyway. Their commitment had a financial price tag: three hundred thousand euros maybe, forty million no chance. The big payoff would come from Kostopoulos. Damn well better. Otherwise, Demon was fucked. But he wasn't worried. Kostopoulos had the money and no choice but to pay, assuming he had a soul. Demon was willing to take that gamble. He wasn't sure he'd take the same bet on the Old Man.
'Ping.' The message he was waiting for:
Printers are hard to find on such short notice.
'Arrogant bastard.' He said the words aloud. Demon's immediate reaction was to reply, but he didn't. His first message said it all. Either the Old Man came up with the money or he didn't. Demon couldn't do anything more about it. But if he didn't pay and Kostopoulos learned who was behind his son's murder, the Old Man and a lot of others would damn well wish he had.
The more Demon thought about it, the more he saw a potential upside to Kostopoulos killing the Old Man and a few of the others. It would galvanize the rest into rallying behind him. Then he'd deal with Kostopoulos, assuming Kostopoulos didn't take him out first and that Efisio was satisfied with Anna as his consolation for no three hundred thousand euros.
On balance, Demon decided to pray that the money turned up by tomorrow. It was easy finding Tassos' flight but not so easy finding him. Andreas finally caught up to him in the airport security office, sitting around a card table arguing over soccer with two cops.
'Afternoon, Tassos.'
Tassos looked surprised. 'Andreas. What are you doing here?' He paused. 'Maggie.'
Andreas smiled. 'Glad she surprises you, too.'
Tassos grinned. 'Always has. So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?'
Andreas looked at the two cops. 'Could you guys give us a few minutes?'
Andreas waited until they left. 'I think the time for bullshit has passed. Why are you flying to Milan?'
'You don't want some witty answer, do you?'
'No.'
'Our mutual friend is sending me.'
'I hope you're talking about Kostopoulos.'
'Who else?'
'Why Milan?'
'Now you're getting a bit too personal.'
Andreas leaned forward. 'Personal is receiving bits and pieces of your wife and kids cut off with a tree-pruner.'
Tassos' eyes narrowed slightly. 'What are you talking about?'
'That's the way it's done by these guys.'
'What guys?'
'The ones who soon will be asking a forty million euro ransom from Kostopoulos.'
'Is this for real?'
'Picked it up from phone calls. We think we found the link between the muscle and the brains.'
'I won't bother to ask who the link is because I know you won't tell me, but I can't believe these guys are dumb enough to pull this shit while they're in the middle of negotiations with Zanni. They stand to make a lot more than forty million. At least they think they do.'
Andreas shook his head. 'Different guys, brand new ones. Give me who's negotiating with Zanni and I'll give you what I have on the new ones for you to worry about.'
Tassos paused. 'Greece's usual suspects from the drug trade. Albanian mobsters teamed up with home-grown Greek bad boys. They work together a lot. No surprise.'
'That's like saying they're AEK fans. Too many of them. Give me a name.'
'I take offense to your using my soccer team for the comparison.'
'It's the best I can say about them.' Andreas grinned.
'So, tell me a bit more.'
Tassos loved to horse-trade, but this time Andreas didn't mind, because he intended to tell him what he knew anyway. No way he'd let Tassos fly off blind into this mess. 'They're Italians, specializing in kidnapping, living in exile away from Italian authorities somewhere in the Balkans. We have a first name for one, Efisio, about five feet tall, late thirties. Here,' Andreas handed him a photograph and pointed. 'We think this one is Efisio. It was taken yesterday.'
'That's it?'
'Fuck you.'
Tassos grinned. 'The one negotiating with Zanni is tied into the Greek-Albanian crew behind the Angel Club in Athens.'
'Since when are Albanians involved in the Angel Club?'
Tassos smiled. 'Consider it a simple case of consumer fraud. Albanian drugs are the kind of street shit stepped on and sold to druggies around Omonia and Exarchia. It wholesales for about one-half the price of the Angel Club boys' homegrown Greek stuff. So, the guys behind the Angel worked out a deal where they exchange one kilo of theirs for two of the Albanians, then sell it in the club as their own pricier stuff. Most of their customers can't tell the difference between vodka and gasoline. Makes it a no-brainer and doubles their profits.'
Andreas shook his head. 'Greeks, the most adaptive entrepreneurs in the world. Anything else?' said Andreas.
Tassos pressed on the table and stood up. 'No, just thanks, my friend. I appreciate the heads-up.'
But Andreas knew something else was coming. 'What is it?'
Tassos smiled. 'Something you won't want to hear, but since you asked.' He put his hand on Andreas' shoulder. 'If you found the link, why not just take it out and call it a day.' He dropped his hand.
Andreas was angry. 'And forget about all the other bastards involved?'
Tassos shrugged. 'Whether you cut off the head or sever the spine it's the same result. Hard for one part to regrow the other.'
'What about the ones who killed his boy? What bullshit analogy do you have for letting them go free?'
'Don't worry about those two. Yeah, I know about them. They weren't from Greece. It was supposed to be just another quick in-and-out job for them, just like the other times they were asked to teach a banished family a lesson. Too bad for them they became a nonnegotiable deal point. No names, no deal. Their negotiator blinked, we have the names, and like I said, don't worry about those two.'
Andreas didn't have to ask why. 'But what about the bastard who heads this whole thing? The one who thinks he can decide who has the right to live here and who will die for staying when he says "leave." He's the reason Zanni's son is dead.' Andreas pointed a finger at Tassos. 'You know that as well as I do.'
'Who's talking about letting him get away?'
Andreas smacked his hands together. 'Now I get it. Kostopoulos intends to take care of him in his own way. Screw the police. Who needs them? Just hire your own cops, and justice is whatever you decide. Mind telling me how that makes Kostopoulos any different from he who decided killing the kid would make the world a better place?'
Tassos shrugged again. 'No one is trying to play God. We just have different views. Look, I'm a realist. There's no way we're ever going to get them all, unless they have a membership list, which we damn well know they don't. So, all we can hope to do is find the head. And once we do, I don't care who takes him out, as long as he disappears. That will scatter the rest until some new psycholeader appears. Hopefully, a very long time from now.'
Andreas had heard Tassos' views on that subject before and knew it was a waste of time to argue. 'Any idea who the big man is?'
'None worth sharing. It might confuse your instincts.'
Zanni must be spinning out one new paranoid theory after another – and Tassos had to listen to them all. 'Okay, I'll take your word on that, but I expect you to tell me as soon as you think you have a lead. You're still a cop, and this is a police investigation.' Andreas knew he might as well have said that last line in Chinese for all the effect it was likely to have on Tassos.
'You sound like your dad.'
Andreas took it as a compliment.
'I better head to the gate. I just want you to know we actually are on the same team, no matter how differently we look at the rules.'
'If only life were that easy.'
Tassos smiled and patted Andreas on the shoulder. 'Anything else to tell me?'
'Just be careful. Like I said, these guys are kidnapping pros. The one in the photograph, Efisio, originally came out of the viscous Sardinian crews from the nineties.'
Tassos blanched. 'My god. That's where I'm headed, connecting through Milan to Cagliari in Sardinia. How could they know?'
'Know what?'
'Ginny Kostopoulos and the children are on a boat off Sardinia!' It was early afternoon and still no word on the three hundred thousand. Demon was pissed. He left his apartment for a coffee at Exarchia Square but was in no mood to engage in the mindless political rhetoric that came with it. Not that they didn't have a point; they just couldn't stop making it over and over again. He left and went back to the same apartment. He didn't dare go to another. He sensed he was being watched. None of that mattered. As long as he got the money. Tassos made the plane, but a lot of angry people were on board waiting for him. He'd delayed them a half-hour. That was how long it took to fill in Andreas on the purpose for his trip – to verify that appropriate security was in place for Ginny and the children – and to advise Zanni that events were moving quickly in an unanticipated direction. Tassos pressed Andreas for the name of the link, and Andreas insisted on knowing who headed the conspiracy operation. Andreas said he wouldn't tell, and Tassos swore he didn't know. They parted shaking hands and promising to let the other know 'anything important.' Andreas only hoped it was good news, and soon.
He called Lila from the car, and they spoke for most of the way back to his office. Not about the case or even about each other, just about things. Little things, silly things. He liked the way she made him feel. He hoped he wouldn't blow it.
'Got to go, I'm back at headquarters.'
'Will I see you tonight?'
'I'll try.'
'That's not the answer I wanted to hear.'
He laughed. 'Okay, but I can't promise when.'
'I don't care when. Bye, kisses.'
The smile on his face held up until he saw Kouros sitting on his couch.
'Did you catch up with Tassos?'
Andreas sat behind his desk. 'Yes, he's off to Sardinia to meet Mrs Kostopoulos and her kids on their boat. Can you believe it – Sardinia!'
'You think it's a coincidence?'
'Don't know, but if it isn't, someone has a leak the size of the Korinth Canal. Remember that guy you tailed to the airport? From what Tassos said, he's probably part of an Albanian mob working with locals out of the Angel Club.'
'That fits with what I have so far from the two who followed him when he landed. He headed straight for the Albanian border. They're still with him but don't have much to tell. Strangers there stick out like the Panathinaikos mascot at Olympiakos soccer practice. Can't get too close.'
'Tell them not to take any chances.' He paused. 'I think others will be dealing with that problem.'
'Others?' Kouros nodded with a grin. 'I like that.'
He's sounding more like Tassos every day, thought Andreas. 'So, what's up with Demosthenes?'
'Not sure, our guess is he's waiting for someone to get a message to him, by e-mail.'
'Can we intercept?'
Kouros gestured no. 'Wish we could.'
'Why do you think he's waiting for an e-mail?'
'He hasn't been on the phone as far as we can tell since he returned home last night. Don't know if he's been text messaging on his mobile, but we did pick up typing sounds right after he got in. Later there was a "ping," like the sound you get from your computer when there's a message. Ten seconds later, we heard the only words from him since he got back: "Arrogant bastard."'
'Sounds like he's pretty pissed at somebody.'
'Anxious too. He only went out once, to one of those anarchist coffee shops by the square near his apartment. He didn't stay long. Was back in less than thirty minutes.'
Andreas nodded. 'I think you're right. And my guess is as soon as he gets whatever he's waiting for he's off like a rabbit. I want to be ready for him this time.' He pointed a finger at Kouros. 'No more excuses or stories about disappearing hat tricks.'
Kouros stood up. 'Understood.' He left.
Andreas wanted to go back to thinking about Lila. But that would have to wait. Demon finally got what he wanted. Almost. If you still need a printer, try Kolonaki. Might have availability.
He couldn't believe the Old Man was making him put on a dog and pony show. Maybe the anarchists at the square had a point: 'We all work for "the Man" no matter how independent we think we are.'
Demon walked up the hill to Kolonaki mumbling a lyric from Bob Dylan's Sixties' anthem: 'The times they are a-changin.' He made no effort to conceal where he was headed. As far as he was concerned, anyone following him was welcome to know. His revolutionary and drug-dealing constituents valued Demon's connections with the Athens power elite. If anyone else were interested, good luck at using whatever they thought they found. The rich could take care of themselves. And the Old Man was very, very rich.
On a side street just off Kolonaki Square, Demon paused outside an elegant old mansion that looked to be a museum. It could have been, but wasn't. It was home to the Kolonaki Club, Athens' most exclusive private club. No one but members and their guests were allowed inside. Ever.
Demon's name was on a list of expected visitors, and immediately he was shown upstairs to a private room. He was surprised to see that the Old Man was not alone.
'Hello, Demosthenes, do you know my old friend, Sarantis Linardos?'
'Of course I do, everyone knows the publisher of The Athenian. An honor to meet you, sir.'
The Old Man patted Demon on the back and pointed him to the center of three well-padded and broken-in leather armchairs. The room was furnished in heavy mahogany furniture, bookshelves lined with tracts from another era, Oriental rugs, ornate silver and bronze fixtures, and wealth. Demon did not miss the point of picking this place for the meeting: we have it, you don't.
'Demosthenes is Thanassis Mavrakis' grandson.'
Linardos nodded and smiled as if he didn't already know that. A subtle way of making Demon feel he actually might belong here. They sat in a row, like see-no-, hear-no-, and speak-no-evil monkeys.
'Sarantis, Demosthenes says he is in need of a considerable sum of money in order to resolve a rather messy and unexpected situation involving a family I know you're familiar with.'
Why the charade? The Old Man certainly told him all this before. No way Linardos didn't know what was coming.
The Old Man looked straight at Linardos. 'I thought it would be helpful for our discussion if you understood a bit more of what's involved.' He gestured to Demon to speak.
Linardos looked as if he wished he were anywhere but here.
'I'm not sure what there's left to tell you, because I don't know what you were told. So, let me cut to the point.' He turned to face the Old Man. 'Oh, by the way, do you think anyone might be eavesdropping or taping us?'
The effect wasn't lost on Linardos, who said, 'Why? What are you planning to tell me?'
'Just the truth? Do you want to hear it?'
'Now, now, Demosthenes, behave.' It was the Old Man.
'You called this meeting, and I've asked a question. Is it safe to talk or not?'
'You're the one who needs the money.' The smile on the Old Man's face was not pleasant.
'And you're the ones likely to die if I don't get it.'
Linardos bolted up in his chair. 'I don't take kindly to threats, young man!'
Demon pointed at his chest. 'From me? No way. I'm talking about the dead serious threat the two of you face from the man whose son recently turned up murdered in a dumpster.' Linardos looked as if Demon had just stabbed him. Demon paused to let his words sink in deeper. 'My question, although possibly moot by now, remains the same. Is it safe to talk in here?'
The Old Man gestured yes. 'The entire club is swept for listening devices every week, ever since that scandal involving the tapping of our government ministers' phones. One can't be too careful these days.'
'Good. So, what more do you want to hear, other than that if you don't give me three hundred thousand euros, Zanni Kostopoulos will find and kill you.'
'Kostopoulos doesn't know about us.' It was the Old Man.
'If you want to take that bet, fine. Not my problem.'
'Of course it's your problem. You're as much a target as any of us.'
'I had nothing to do with this!' said Linardos.
Demon spoke as if he'd not heard Linardos. 'I don't have as much to lose. Only my life.' He pointed to each of them. 'But the two of you-' he waved his hand in the air. 'When Kostopoulos is done with you, you'll not only be dead, your names will be synonymous with terrorists who murder children. The shame to your families will be eternal. Sandblasters will be working overtime erasing your names from every plaque, every monument, every building…' Demon stopped. He liked his argument but thought he might be overselling. Either they'd bite or they wouldn't.
Linardos slouched in the chair, put a hand up to his face, and stared at the floor.
The Old Man answered. 'What makes you think he'd ever find out about us?'
He'd bitten. 'What makes you think he wouldn't? This is Greece. Everything's for sale, and everyone wants to see the big ones fall. Are you telling me you can't think of at least one person who, if given the chance, wouldn't bring you down?'
'Like you for instance?'
Demon smiled at the Old Man. 'I'm probably one of the few who wouldn't, for a couple of reasons. As cavalier as I sounded before about dying, I'd prefer not to die, and bringing you down takes me with you. I need you too much. Almost as much as you need me.'
'You're rather arrogant today, Demosthenes,' said the Old Man.
'No, the word you're looking for is "realistic."'
Linardos drew in a deep breath, dropped his hand to his lap, and sat up in the chair. 'What is it you want, money?'
The Old Man put up his hand. 'Sarantis, that is not what drives Demosthenes. He has a far nobler calling.' There was no sarcasm in his voice, but Demon knew it was there.
Linardos stared at the Old Man. 'And what "nobler calling" justified murdering a boy?'
The Old Man pointed to Demon. 'Tell him.'
So, that's the deal, Demon thought. The Old Man set this up so I could pitch Athens' most influential publisher into joining the Old Man's crusade while he sat back seemingly above it all. That's the carrot. If I pull it off, I get the three hundred thousand.
But Demon saw things differently. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for to do some recruiting of his own. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence.' There was no sarcasm in Demon's voice. 'The Kostopoulos problem stems from an effort to keep the wrong element from accumulating power in our country. I'm certain I don't have to tell you who they are.'
He looked for a nod from Linardos but received none. 'No matter, you know who I mean. They're the ones you continuously talk about at your dinner parties and study with veiled disdain and envy at all those events you simply must attend with them. You wish they weren't there, except you need them – if you want their money to hold the damn event. Now do you know whom I'm talking about?'
Demon didn't bother to check for a nod. 'Wouldn't life be easier if we could go back to the good old days where only the right families had the money?' Now, the sarcasm was clear. 'Don't act as if you're somehow free of guilt for what we did on your behalf. The boy was murdered. We're all responsible. We all must live with it.' He stared at the Old Man. 'But we cannot continue with these ways of yours.'
The Old Man looked angry. 'We need order and must do whatever is required to achieve it. The Kostopoulos boy's death was necessary. You know that.'
'Yes, but your vigilante method of returning us to the old days isn't working and never will. You can't keep up this potsherd banishment bullshit to achieve your dream. It's now more like terrorism than patriotism and you're running out of patsies who run when you say run. You're left to going after people with balls and the ability to fight back. Things only will get worse if you keep this up.' Demon shrugged. 'Sorry to tell you, but your plan's kaput.'
Linardos stared at the Old Man. 'What is he talking about?'
Demon answered. 'I am talking about this.' He pointed at both men. 'You and your families are not going to make it. No, not because of Kostopoulos. I can take care of him if you let me, but because you're dinosaurs, unwilling or unable to adapt.'
'I've heard enough.' It was the Old Man.
'Don't think so.' Demon didn't budge from his seat. He looked straight at Linardos. 'What this country needs is leadership, not more terrorists. How many Greeks love their country? Answer, all of them. How many love their form of government? Answer, most of them. How many love their politicians. Answer, none of them; not even their mistresses can stand them. Why is that? Do I really have to tell you? Because they're all alike. Name one who ever has gone to prison for corruption? The people have no faith in their politicians and have given up on finding better ones. What I want to give them is hope.'
'You're beyond arrogant.' It was Linardos.
'As I said before: no, I'm realistic. I know what the far left thinks, they know me, and they trust me. I also know how you think. I come from the same roots as you. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes that's best for Greece, for all of Greece. We cannot continue as we are. We must bring about change, but through the system, by making it work for us, not by tearing it apart and bringing it down.' He looked at the Old Man. 'That is how you will realize your dream.'
At that point, Demon's speech morphed into dialog among the three men. It was of the sort he'd engaged in for years, as if training for this singular opportunity. They spoke for hours, and by the time they were through two of Greece's most important men were converts to his cause-
'Greek children are rioting alongside their parents in the streets. Widespread vandalism, arson, and assaults on police are dismissed by our government as "democracy" in action, and law-abiding Greeks, who once watched such protests in horror and disgust, now call the demonstrators justified! Our countrymen are sick of their politicians and their parties. They want a new beginning and they want it now. They know it can happen, no matter how unrealistic it might have seemed at other times, for they have seen the impossible happen in the United States. A black man elected president. But it requires a fresh leader to emerge, one who can unite the left and the right, the rich and the poor, under one political banner and offer new hope for our beloved Greece' – and the promise of ultimate power for Demon.
The three hundred thousand became a meaningless sum for what they now sought to achieve. The money would be delivered within the hour to the address Demon gave them. A new world was about to begin. Once Demon took care of Kostopoulos.